


Learn To Take A Compliment

by TheseusInTheMaze



Series: Handful of Jacks [5]
Category: jacksepticeye
Genre: Age Regression, Anal Sex, Blow Job, Caretaking, Crossdressing, Daddy Play, Frotting, M/M, Mommy play, Olfactophilia, Panties, Rimming, Romance, Signing, bottle feeding, male mommy, mute character, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 10:43:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14735460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Henrik and Jameson have a date. Jack has some stress relief.





	Learn To Take A Compliment

**Author's Note:**

> While Jameson is using sign language in this fic, he's using signed English, not TNAV. That's why the grammar is the way it is.

Henrik leaned back against the wall, panting like he'd run a mile.

He kind of had.

There was something like a gym in the basement of their house, which, fair enough.

And Henrik was trying to get in better shape, which was also fair. 

But holy fuck, he was tired.

All of him ached.

Who even knew he could be this sore, just from running on a treadmill?

His knees ached, his back ached.

He wished that he could sweat properly. 

He probably smelled horrible, come to think of it.

He just... sat there, panting, his eyes half closed, panting and chugging water.

It was nice to stretch his body out like this - nice to see what he could get his body to do things it hadn't always been able to do, nice to just... feel it working.

He sighed, a long, drawn out sound, and he stretched.

Oh well.

Time to head upstairs, take a shower, get ready for bed.

... which meant walking up all of those stairs.

Urgh.

Oh well.

It would be worth it!

He could do it!

* * *

Henrik collapsed onto his bed, his eyes half shut, and he stared up at his ceiling, as various bits of him throbbed.

He was glad he'd done this right before he went to bed - he'd be worn out and probably sleep like the dead.

He just needed to get up to shower first.

There was a knock on the door, and Henrik groaned. 

"Come in," he called. 

Hopefully it wouldn't be Anti.

Anti had taken to knocking on doors recently, which was... weird, although Henrik wasn't going to complain too hard.

It was nice that Anti was starting to learn how to interact with human beings.

Instead... Jameson walked in.

Henrik grinned, getting up on his elbows, and Jameson smiled back. 

_You doing okay?_

"Yeah, I'm good," said Henrik, and he flopped back down on his bed. "I'm just gonna die."

_Well, of course you're gonna die,_ signed Henrik, as he closed the door behind him. _We all are. It's called entropy._

"You're in a nihilistic mood," Henrik complained, and then he grunted, as Henrik climbed on top of him, chin on Henrik's chest, elbows on either side of Henrik's ribs.

_No, I'm just being silly,_ signed Jameson. 

"If this is you being silly, I don't wanna know what you get like when you're depressive," said Henrik, and he reached a hand out to stroke back Jameson's hair.

Jameson took Henrik's hand in his own, and kissed the back of it. 

_I'm too happy to be depressive,_ signed Jameson, and Henrik flushed. 

"Thanks," he mumbled, because sometimes strong feelings were just kind of... embarrassing. 

Henrik grinned, and he kissed along Henrik's jaw, his nose no doubt getting abraded by Henrik's stubble.

_You need to shave,_ signed Jameson.

"Sorry," said Henrik. "I smell kinda... strong."

Henrik shrugged, and he snuggled in, his nose going to the side of Jameson's neck, taking in a sniff. 

Henrik grinned a bit in spite of himself.

Jameson and his olfactophilia.

He was pretty subtle about it, most of the time.

Except when he wasn't.

"I did just do a bunch of exercise," Henrik said. "If you want to keep the shirt, I mean."

_Aren't you going to need it next time you work out?_

Jameson was blushing, and he was licking his lips.

"Meh," said Henrik. "I've got a bunch of old shirts. You can keep it 'til the smell runs out or something."

_Sorry,_ Henrik signed awkwardly, sitting up so he could get it done right.

"You could've just spelled it, y'know," teased Henrik. 

_You're not gonna make fun of me for my weird fetish?_

Henrik shrugged.

"What even is a weird fetish?" 

_I feel like liking to sniff other people's armpits and underwear is a weird fetish,_ signed Jameson, and his expression was vaguely amused.

Henrik shrugged.

"You don't need any accouterments for it," said Henrik. "You don't even need to do much. Just wear clothes."

_It's a bit more complicated than that,_ signed Jameson.

"Yeah?"

_Sometimes I just like bodies,_ signed Jameson.

Henrik snorted.

"I'm just a body to you," he told Jameson, his tone teasing.

Jameson snorted, and he leaned forward, kissing Henrik on the mouth.

Henrik kissed him back, his fingers tangled in Jameson's hair, and when they pulled apart, they were both panting.

"Armpit sniffing is popular in Japan," Henrik said. 

_Everything is popular in Japan,_ signed Jameson. 

"Lemme sit up for a sec," said Henrik, and Jameson scooted back, so that he was sitting on Henrik's thighs.

Henrik sat up, and he pulled his shirt off, handing it to Jameson. 

"Here ya go," he said.

_Thanks,_ signed Jameson, and he was blushing. 

"Do you want to sniff it?"

Jameson turned bright red, and Henrik grinned up at him.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said, and he even put his doctor voice on.

Jameson gave him a Look, his eyes narrowing. 

“What?”

_I’m not your patient right now,_ signed Jameson. _I’m your boyfriend. You don’t have to use that voice on me._

“Sorry,” said Henrik, his expression sheepish.

Jameson leaned forward, and he kissed Henrik on the mouth, a soft, sweet brush of lips on lips. 

_it’s okay,_ he signed. 

“But I mean it,” Henrik said.

_As much as I appreciate the offer,_ signed Jameson, _I do have you right here._ He paused. _Unless you don’t feel like doing anything right now._

“I’d be up for something,” allowed Henrik, “as long as I don’t have to do too much… moving.”

_Pillow princess,_ Jameson signed, his expression affectionate.

Henrik stuck his tongue out at Jameson.

Jameson leaned down, and he kissed Henrik on the mouth, a long, soft, sweet kiss.

Henrik moaned into the kiss, sliding his hands up Jameson’s back, digging his nails in just a bit, and Jameson moaned, shuddering, grinding forward.

He was already hard, right up against Henrik’s belly, and he was kissing Henrik, and then he was moving lower, along Henrik’s jaw, and then lower still.

He pressed his face into the thick hair at Henrik’s chest, and he took deep sniffs, shuddering, holding on tightly.

Henrik sighed, and he lifted his arms up, as Jameson’s face nuzzled forward.

Henrik didn’t get much in the way of body odor, what with the not sweating much.

None of the egos sweated much - probably inherited it from Jack, come to think of it.

But now Jameson’s nose was pressed into his armpit, and it was… okay, it was a little ticklish, and Henrik was having trouble staying still, to keep from giggling. 

But Jameson was grinding his hips forward, and he was panting heavily, his cock hard and hot, already leaking pre-cum through his trousers.

“You’re really into this,” Henrik said.

Jameson pulled back, and he was giving Henrik a Look.

He didn’t need to sign anything - it just screamed “duh” in big capitals.

“Fair enough,” Henrik amended, and he let Jameson go back to grinding against him while sniffing his armpit.

_Are you wearing panties?_

Henrik blushed, but he nodded.

Jameson grinned, and he scooted back, pulling on the waistband of Henrik’s shorts.

This was possibly going to take a bit of wrangling, come to think of it. 

But eventually, Jameson was between Henrik’s legs, having pulled Henrik’s shorts up and off as well, leaving Henrik in a pair of panties.

They were cute panties - silky, a light blue, printed with a pattern of little flowers.

Jameson leaned forward, mouthing along Henrik’s cock through the thin material, and Henrik groaned, his hands in Jameson’s hair.

Jameson pressed his face forward, and his nose against the very base of Jameson’s cock.

That… couldn’t have smelled good. 

But Jameson was moaning like his own cock was being serviced, and who was Henrik to judge?

Henrik just… lay there, and let Jameson take him in.

He didn’t get it - he didn’t know if he’d ever get it, honestly - but he wasn't’ going to complain about it too much. 

He was going to enjoy himself.

After all, how often does one get to be worshipped?

* * *

Jameson used his mouth, his nose, his hands.

He left Henrik writhing on the bed, trying to catch is breath, trying not to squirm too much, then giving in, practically bucking Jameson off of the bed.

Not that Jameson seemed to be bothered by it - he held on tightly, occasionally letting out little huffs of laughter, or moaning. 

He eventually shoved Henriks’ underwear just… down. 

Full on down, and he was sucking Henrik’s cock, which… oh god, that was good.

That was really, really good, and Henrik’s heels were digging into the bed, Henrik's hips were rocking upwards, as Jameson gave the most teasing blowjob of all fucking time.

It was just… little kitten licks, little pecks, kisses, occasionally enveloping the head of Henrik’s cock into his mouth, giving it a few sucks, then letting go, leaving Henrik writhing like a landed fish.

“Jameson, c’mon,” Henrik said, and he was actually whining - he’d be embarrassed about it, if he could get his brain to do anything but gibber madly at him like something out of Lovecraft.

He wished he could sweat.

He was probably getting more cardio in right now than he had when he had been working out, come to think of it. 

… he needed to not think about that too hard, or he’d start laughing, which would be bad, okay, calm down, take it, enjoy it… fuck….

Jameson was pulling back, and he was shoving Jack’s hips up further, pulling the leg of the panties to the side - these panties would never be the same, but fuck it, who cared?

Jameson was spreading the cheeks of Henrik’s ass, and he was… he was licking.

Jameson was licking along the ball’s bridge, then lower, to the very edge of Henrik’s hole, and Henrik would have been embarrassed about how sweaty he was, how gross he was, but Jameson’s tongue was doing things to him, intense, complicated things that were making him hold on to his own hair. 

Henrik yanked and twisted, bucking his hips forward, panting like he’d been running a race, practically sobbing, and Jameson kept making those same amused noises, sucking or licking, his tongue inside of Henrik’s ass now.

But… Jameson was gripping the head of Henrik’s cock, pinching it between two fingers, and that was enough to stem the orgasm, although Henrik made distressed noises, thrashing on the bed. 

And he was now holding Henrik’s thighs wide open, beginning to make loud, wet slurping noises.

“Fuck, Jameson, fuck,” Henrik whined.

The panties were rubbing against his balls, against his own inner thighs, and Jameson seemed to be enjoying himself, judging by the way he was moaning and squirming.

_You smell so good,_ signed Jameson, when he came up for air. 

“Thanks,” Henrik said, his voice thick. 

Jameson grinned.

_You’re adorable, you know that?_

Jameson looked amused.

Henrik flushed, looking to the side, licking his lips.

“You’re just saying that,” said Henrik.

_Learn to take a compliment,_ Jameson grumbled, and he prodded Henrik in the side. 

Henrik prodded Jameson with his foot.

“You’re just as bad as me,” Henrik pointed out.

_We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,_ signed Jameson, and he was grinning.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?”

_I don’t know what you’re talking about,_ Jameson signed, and he somehow managed to make his signing look lofty, which wasn’t a thing that Henrik had known was possible.

“You can be such a fuckin’ cunt, you know that?”

Jameson burst out into loud, ugly laughter, and that got Henrik laughing as well, because… well, how could he not?

_You sound like Anti,_ signed Henrik.

“Nah, if I wanted to sound like Anti, I’d have to, like, gargle with some gravel, then eat some sand.”

_Isn’t gravel just sand that’s not sand yet?_

“I mean, yeah, in the great scheme of things, but we’re not really looking at this from the point of view of fucking… geological ages.”

_I’m not talking about geological ages. I’m talking about the general span of time. In general._

“You said in general twice,” Henrik said, just to be a smart ass.

_Do you want to cum, or do you want to keep having this conversation?_

Jameson sat up completely, and he had his eyebrow up.

“I’m shutting up, I’m shutting up,” Henrik said quickly.

Another burst of ugly laughter, and then Jameson was grabbing Henrik’s panties, pulling them down and off, and he was pulling his own cock out as well, stroking it from tip to root, then back up.

And then he was… wrapping the panties around Henrik’s cock, around his own, and he was… he was pushing their cocks together, and he was rubbing them together, wrapped in the silky fabric, and oh god, that was… that was a lot.

Henrik moaned, his eyes sliding shut, and then he was opening them up again, to stare into Jameson’s face, watching what it did as Jameson, as the two of them were stroked towards orgasm, surrounded by the sweaty fabric.

The panties were so… smooth. Soft.

Jameson couldn’t talk like this - his hands were occupied - but that was okay.

They didn’t need to say anything. 

They were grinding together, frotting, and Henrik was aware of how strongly he smelled, how hard he was breathing, the brush of the silky fabric, the sensation of Jameson’s hot, dripping cock against his own… god, it was all so much.

His body was still sore as well, and he was shaking, just a bit, trying to catch his breath, his body aching, his heart racing.

He was moaning so hard, rolling his hips, and Jameson just… held on.

Fuck, it shouldn’t have been this wonderful, when he was gross and sweaty, when his whole body was on fire, and he was beginning to stiffen up already.

He held on to Jameson’s hips, hard enough that he might actually bruise them, which would suck, but he… fuck.

“God, fuck, Jamie, please, please… fuck, please!”

Jameson grinned, and his face was pink, slightly dazed.

He brought the panties across the tops of their cocks, and he ran it over them, to make Henrik writhe, to make himself writhe, and the two of them were making the springs of the bed creak.

“God,” Henrik said, his voice thick, “fuck, you’re so… you’re so… oh god, please. Please, don’t stop, please!”

Jameson raised an eyebrow, and then made a frustrated noise - he was no doubt annoyed at his inability to say anything, without pausing the action.

Henrik wrapped his hands around their cocks, taking over, and Jameson sighed, and began to sign.

_You’re so pretty like this, under me. I just want to… I don’t want to ever stop. I want to cum on your belly, can I cum on your belly?_

“Do it,” Henrik said. “Do it, fucking… do it, fuck, please, do it, cum on my belly, do it!”

And Jameson just… came.

He came across Henrik’s belly in spurts, catching in the hair there, and then Henrik was arching his own back, his hips jerking forward, and he was cumming, onto his belly, onto the panties.

He groaned, and then he moaned as Jameson began to rub their mixed cum into his skin, and it was… it was gross and sticky, but it was also hot, and Henrik… didn’t entirely get it, but he wasn’t going to complain - he wasn’t one to judge someone else’s kinks, and he was going to enjoy the chance to just be adored. 

Jameson adored all of Henrik’s body, and Henrik wasn’t going to argue about it, no matter how much he wanted to.

Sometimes you just have to let yourself be loved - if love was the word he was gonna use right now? 

Were they at that point?

… yeah, Henrik was overthinking things.

He tilted his head back for a kiss, and he smiled against Jameson’s mouth. 

_You make me happy,_ Jameson signed.

“You make me happy, too,” said Henrik. 

_Is there, like, kink stuff you’d like to try?_

Jameson was still just… sitting on Henrik’s upper thighs, looking lazy and a little bit gross, the way people who have just done fun sex stuff usually look.

Henrik avoided Jameson’s eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said.

_Obviously not, if you’re being so evasive,_ signed Jameson.

Henrik snorted.

“Maybe I’m just being evasive,” he countered.

_It’s not like you’d be embarrassed._

“Why not?”

_Your literal day job is to do kinky shit. I doubt that you’ll just be embarrassed by kink stuff._

“I mean, that’s not my day job,” Henrik grumbled. “It’s one of the services I provide.”

Jameson kept giving him a Look.

“Okay, fine,” Henrik said, and he sighed. “I’m just… you know, self conscious about it.”

_Why?_

“Because… it’s embarrassing.”

_Why?_

“If you’re gonna start acting like a three year old, I’m gonna regress you,” Henrik said. 

_I’d like to see you try,_ Jameson countered. 

“Oh really?”

_You could just stop avoiding the question and tell me,_ signed Jameson.

Henrik sighed. 

“Okay. I just… I want to get a dress. Maybe two dresses.”

_Dresses?_

Jameson looked confused.

“Yeah.”

_What’s the big deal about that? You’ve got feminine clothes._

“Yeah, but that’s… different.” Henrik made vague hand motions. “Like… these wouldn’t be, like, slutwear that you’d get at some porno shop. Just, like… a nice dress. The kind of thing I’d wear for a nice night out, if I was the type to go to a nice night out in a dress.”

_Are you?_

“Fuck no!”

_Just checking,_ Jameson signed.

“Sorry,” said Henrik, and he sighed. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

He took Jameson’s hand in his own, and he kissed the back of it.

Jameson patted Henrik’s cheek, and Henrik kissed Jameson’s palm. 

Henrik wasn’t very… good at this, but he was getting there.

Hopefully.

Jameson didn’t seem to have any complaints, and that was the important part.

* * *

The took a shower together - Jameson even used the special soap that he’d bought for Henrik, scented with basil -it smelled green, sweet. 

There was an intimacy to this as well - washing each other, pressed close together in the tight space, surrounded by steam.

Henrik let himself be held under the beat of the water, and some part of his soul sang, in a way that he hadn’t realized was possible. 

* * * 

_I’ve got a surprise for you,_ signed Jameson, when Henrik was coming in from a long day at work.

“What kind of surprise are we talking about?”

_The kind where I take you out shopping and then we get dinner,_ signed Jameson.

“Oh,” said Henrik. “What are we shopping for?”

 _Surprise,_ signed Jameson.

“... as in we’re shopping to be surprised?”

It had been a long day.

Henrik wasn’t firing on all cylinders. 

_No,_ signed Jameson. _It’s a surprise for you._

“Oh,” said Henrik, because he didn’t know what else to say. “Where are we getting dinner?”

Jameson shrugged. 

_We’ll figure that out later,_ he signed, and then he was looping his arm with Henrik’s.

“Hold on,” said Henrik. “Can I, uh, maybe, can I sit down?”

_I don’t want the shop to close before we get there,_ signed Jameson.

“Oh,” said Henrik. “Right. Sorry.”

Jameson gave him a loud smooch on the cheek.

_Don’t worry about it,_ Jameson signed. _Just c’mon. I’ll buy you a drink, too._

“Just one drink, then?”

Henrik followed after Jameson, thinking wistfully of being able to sit in a comfortable chair and maybe order food, but… fuck it. 

Jameson wanted to do something fun, and part of dating someone is occasionally being uncomfortable for a little bit.

He could live with that.

Especially if Jameson was gonna buy him a drink.

* * *

They drove up to a small, slightly shabby part of town. 

“What are we doing?”

_We’re shopping,_ signed Jameson. 

“What are we gonna find here?”

_Stuff,_ Jameson signed. 

“You’re real helpful, you know that?”

_I do my best._

* * *

It was a dress shop.

It was a dress shop - again, on the shabbier side of things - and there was some little old lady, beaming up at them.

She immediately began to sign at Jameson - fast enough that it was obvious that sign was her native language. 

Wow.

She had an old fashioned hearing aid, clipped to her belt. 

She was signing very fast - so fast that Henrik could barely catch on, but then the little old lady was grabbing him by the arm, shoving him into the fitting room.

And he just… stood there, and then there was a dress being thrust at him.

“Um?”

Henrik poked his head out, to see more fast signing. 

“What’s going on?”

Henrik signed as he spoke, so that she could understand what he was saying. 

_Your boyfriend said you wanted a dress. I make dresses._

“Oh,” he said, and he nodded. 

He was giving Jameson a look, and Jameson smiled at him nervously. 

_Are you mad at me?_

Jameson looked nervous.

Henrik shook his head. 

_Okay, good. Now try things on._

… so he did.

He tried on dresses, and he got critiques on how it looked, how he needed to stand.

She signed at him faster than he could understand, and Henrik had to ask Jameson to translate.

They stayed past closing time, and there was a lot of rapid fire signing, a lot of intense conversations that Henrik didn’t entirely get, until he was handed two dresses and paying.

_Come back any time,_ the woman signed, as Henrik thanked her, again and again.

_So,_ signed Jameson, _Good date?_

“Did this count as a date?”

_It could be,_ signed Jameson, and he looked nervous. _If you want it to, I mean._

Henrik paused, and he kissed Jameson on the mouth, right in front of the car.

Jameson made a startled noise, and kissed Henrik back. 

“This was really sweet,” Henrik said against Jameson’s lips. “Thank you.”

Henrik kissed him again, fingers in Jameson’s hair, and they pressed closer to each other, panting, and it was… oh, it was sweet.

_Where do you want to eat?_

“I just want food,” said Henrik. 

_Any food?_

“Well, okay, I don’t want Italian food. Otherwise… I’m good for anything.”

_And, uh… when we get back, why don’t you change into one of your new dresses, come to my room?_

“You planning something fancy?”

_Maybe._

Henrik grinned, took one of Jameson’s hands, and kissed it. 

* * *

They ate Chinese food. 

Henrik did his best not to make too much of a mess of it, blushing in spite of himself, and he kept meeting Jameson’s eyes, blushing.

He wasn’t sure why he was so embarrassed, except… well, this was wird. 

_Can I ask a weird question?_

“Why’d you decide on springing a date on me?” 

_That was you asking a question,_ Henrik signed, and he looked amused. 

“Well, okay, still.”

_I wanted to surprise you with something nice. You do so much nice stuff for me, for all of us, and you don’t ever ask for much. So I thought I’d give you a pleasant surprise._

“Oh,” said Henrik, and he blushed. “Thanks. But what was your weird question?”

_Do you… want to be a girl? Are you a girl on the inside?_

“I.. I don’t know,” Henrik said, his expression thoughtful, and he took a bite of his food. “I know that, you know, dressing feminine is… nice. It feels more comfortable. It feels more like… myself, but not all the time. Just some of the time.” 

Jameson nodded.

“I don’t… I don’t want to, like, shave my face, or go on hormones or anything. I like the way I look, more or less.”

_More or less?_

“I don’t think anyone is completely satisfied with the way that they look,” said Henrik. 

_Fair enough._

Henrik took another bite of his food. 

“Why do you ask?”

_You looked so happy in there,_ signed Jameson. _I thought… well, maybe you needed… something._

“Something?”

Jameson shrugged.

_I’m just a guy who does videos on YouTube,_ Jameson signed. 

“You’re not just that,” said Henrik. “You’re loads of other stuff.”

Jameson looked amused.

Henrik blushed, looked down at his food.

* * *

Henrik got dressed in his room.

It was… it was a nice dress.

It was blue - the same shade of blue as Henrik’s scrubs, which was a bit… much - Henrik was probably getting a bit sick of that color, truth be told.

Not on this dress, though.

The dress was… it was silky, and it had straps. 

When he put it on, he felt… pretty.

Not just pretty - glamorous. 

He put his makeup on carefully - more carefully than he usually did, and he tried to look as glamorous as the dress made him feel. 

Some of this was a bit ridiculous - the part of his mind that was telling him that he looked stupid, just a bloke in a dress… he ignored it. 

This wasn’t a thing for him to worry about right now. 

Right here and now, it was okay. 

And Henrik was going to be okay.

He was.

He rolled his stockings up - he wished he’d had a chance to shave his legs, but fucked if Henrik was going to pause this lovely evening just to shave.

So he put on his heels, and he walked - slowly - towards Jameson’s room. 

He was wearing a fancy dress - he’d bought two, but he was wearing this one, and this was what he wanted, for now.

Okay.

He knocked on the door, and then Jameson was opening the door, and... Jameson was dressed fancy. 

Dapper, even.

He had brushed his mustache, he had put on a clean vest, the whole shebang.

“Wow,” said Henrik.

_You look so pretty,_ signed Jameson. _Dance with me?_

There was soft, classical music playing in the background - Jameson had gotten his old victrola out, it seemed. 

And then they were just… dancing.

Dancing in the small space, Henrik wobbling carefully on his high heels, and they were turning, gently, carefully.

Henrik pressed his forehead against Jameson’s, and Jameson was spelling things gently against his back. 

_You look so pretty,_ Jameson signed, leaning back so he could actually sign it. 

“Thanks,” Henrik said, and he looked down and to the side, blushing. 

Jameson put a gentle hand under Henrik’s chin, so that they were looking each other in the eye, and then he leaned in, and he kissed Henrik on the mouth, like something out of a movie.

Henrik sighed, and he kissed Jameson back, his hands on Jameson’s back, as the two of them slowly swayed to the music. 

When Jameson pulled back, he had lipstick on his mouth, and he was blushing, just a bit. 

_I mean it,_ Jameson signed. _You’re beautiful._

“I don’t exactly look like a girl,” Henrik said, and he made a face.

_You could,_ Jameson countered. _There are women who look like you._

“With beards?”

Jameson nodded.

“I feel like it’s a bit of a reach.” 

Jameson shrugged, and he reached out, and kissed Henrik, soft and warm and sweet.

Henrik was melting, from his lips to his back, and it was… it wasn’t like anything he’d expected.

He hadn’t known what he had expected.

Probably not this.

When had he even told Jameson about the stupid thing he had about dresses?

About how he wanted dresses?

He couldn’t remember that conversation, although they’d had a few conversations in the dark, or late at night.

Sometimes, Henrik got home late, and Jameson waited up for him with reheated leftovers, and they just… talked.

Henrik hadn’t realized he’d needed that - had needed someone who just saw him as a person, and not just the doctor, or the disperer of fetishes.

And now, Jameson was looking at him like he was beautiful.

Like he was more than beautiful - like he was… desirable.

He knew he wasn’t really desirable, not as himself. 

Dr. Schneeplestein, sure, or when he was doing the kink things that made other people happy.

But when he was being himself, he was… he was just him.

So why was Jameson looking at him like that?

_You make a very pretty woman,_ signed Jameson. 

“You’re just saying that,” said Henrik, and he was flushing so hard that his heart was beating in his ears.

Oh god.

_Learn to take a compliment,_ Jameson signed, looking exasperated.

“You said that already,” said Henrik.

_Yeah, like, two weeks ago!_

“Still.”

Jameson cast his eyes heavenword, then grabbed Henrik by the sides of the head and kissed him, like something out of a movie. 

A romance movie, the kind of shit movie that Henrik would never watch - he hated those kinds of movies.

He might have to start watching them, if he was going to do this sort of thing in his day to day life.

… fuck, he was turning into a giant mush ball with all of this.

Jameson’s tongue was in Henrik’s mouth, Jameson’s hands were running up and down Henrik’s back, and Henrik was shuddering, pressing closer.

Some part of him wished he had breasts.

They’d be soft, pressed against Jameson’s chest.

… was that a thing he wanted, or a thing that he thought he needed. 

Was he getting too caught up in his head?

Jameson pulled back, and then Jameson was kissing along his neck, gentle little pecks, and for once, Jameson wasn’t paying attention to Henrik’s scent.

Huh.

That was a new one.

Henrik held on to Jameson’s shirt, and he clutched it like a lifeline, as Jameson just… kissed him.

Little dabs of kisses, and it was… what was it?

He didn’t know what it was.

It was all perfect.

Inasmuch as anything could be perfect.

Henrik was wobbling, still clutching, and his cock was hard in his panties… they were… what was it?

He was just chasing his own tail, as he was kissed and kissed and kissed.

Jameson kissed him again, and Henrik kissed him back, and when they pulled apart, Jameson was looking at him like some kind of beautiful, wonderful thing that he had the joy of talking to. 

Oh god.

_I want to make love to you,_ Jameson signed, and he actually signed "make love" - the compound word, instead of the casual "have sex" or the more vulgar "fuck."

Henrik flushed, but he nodded. 

"Sounds like a plan," he said, and his voice cracked awkwardly. 

Jameson kissed him, and okay, this was all a bit... well, romantic comedy, honestly, but fuck it, who doesn't want to live in weird bits sometimes?

So he let himself be laid out on his back on the bed, as Jameson kissed him, and then Jameson was on top of him, and they were kissing again.

Jameson was being... romantic. 

Pushing down the straps of the dress and kissing along the spot, nuzzling into it. 

Jameson sat up, and he grinned, making eye contact.

_Are you wearing perfume?_

Henirk nodded.

_It's nice._

"Thank you," Henrik said, and he was blushing. 

_Pretty girl would smell pretty,_ signed Jameson, and Henrik blushed harder.

He kind of wanted to hide his face, to squirm and shiver, but... n. 

He was going to be calm, he was going to be still, he was going to act... well, however he was supposed to act. 

Was there a way he was supposed to act?

He sighed, and he looked up into Jameson's blue eyes.

"What would you like me to do, Jamie?"

It was always a good idea to ask these kinds of things, instead of making assumptions.

_Enjoy yourself,_ Jameson signed. 

"Right," said Henrik, and he was blushing. "I don't know if I can do that without thinking."

_I'm sure I can arrange that,_ Jameson signed, and he looked downright pleased with himself.

Henrik raised an eyebrow, but then Jameson was descending down to kiss Henrik again.

* * * 

It was a blur.

It was a blur of kissing, of clinging, of grinding and shaking.

It was... it was so warm, and they were so close together that Henrik's whole head was filled with the scent of Jameson, and it was... it was so much more than he'd expected.

It was filling his whole mind, and it was getting hard to do anything but writhe around, as his dress rode up, the silky fabric caressing him.

He moaned against Jameson's mouth, holding on to Jameson's back, and then he dug his knees into Jameson's sides, digging his fingers in, panting heavily.

"God, you're... god," Henrik mumbled.

Jameson shook his head, and Henrik snorted.

"I'm not saying you're god," Henrik said.

He felt Jameson's lips curve into a smile against his cheek, and he rolled his eyes.

And then Jameson was rolling them over, and it was Henrik's turn to straddle Jameson, resting his weight against Jameson's pelvis, as Jameson squirmed, grinding his hips forward.

He was already hard, and his cock was pressed right up against the crack of Henrik's ass.

And Jameson ground back, and he brought his hands up, to hold on to Henrik's hips, still bouncing him.

"Oh," Henrik whined, and he tilted his head back.

Jamson pushed the skirt up, and then he was wrapping his hand around Henrik's cock through the panties, squeezing it, stroking it, and Henrik was... sobbing.

God, this was all overwhelming, although he wasn't sure _why_ \- he was almost crying like a drunk man, even though he was sober as a judge.

Jameson squeezed Henrik again, and then he was shifting his own hips, pressing his cock against Henrik.

_I'd like you to ride my dick,_ Jameson signed.

"Yeah?"

_In the dress,_ Jameson signed, and he looked embarrassed. _If that's not too weird._

"No, no," Henrik said. "It's... it's fine. It's all fine. I'll... I'll do it. Let me just... hold on...."

There was some shuffling around - Henrik took his panties off, but kept his thigh high stockings on, and now the soft, silky material of the dress was dragging across his skin, was leaving him on edge and tingly, still shaking.

Jameson was reaching over to his bedside drawer, and he was pulling out a little bottle of lube, a condom.

_Can I prep you?_

"Right," said Henrik, and there was more shuffling.

* * *

Henrik rode Jameson's hand.

He held the skirt of the dress up, carefully, and he ground down against the three fingers inside of him, moaning, his head tilting back, his mouth wide open. 

He was Jamson's cock was hard enough that it was leaking through the thin fabric of Jameson's pants, and it was twitching.

Jameson looked like he wanted to say something, but... well, one hand was occupied. 

Henrik moaned again, a little louder this time, and Jameson grinned at him, raised both eyebrows. 

Henrik flushed, but Jameson was looking downright lecherous.

“I”m… I think I’m ready,” Henrik said, and he licked his lips. “Do you want me to keep the dress on?”

Jameson nodded, and then he was removing his fingers, and Henrik was scooting back, taking the condom, opening it up and sliding it over Jameson’s cock.

Jameson groaned, and it was a deep, heartfelt sound, and Henrik was squeezing it, jerking him off gently, and then he was… getting up on his knees, guiding Jameson’s cock to his entrance.

He slid down it slowly, as smooth as silk, and he clenched around it, his mouth falling open, his chest heaving.

The skirt fluttered around them, covering up everything, and Jameson was… rolling his hips upwards, flexing his cock, and Henrik sobbed, squeezing around it. 

“God, you feel so good,” Henrik said, his voice thick. “Fuck, thank you….”

_Beautiful girl,_ Jameson signed. _Beautiful._

Henrik blushed, and he ground his hips some more, still panting.

“Fuck!”

_Good?_

“So good. Oh fuck. Oh… fuck. Oh god, fuck….”

Henrik sounded like a goddamn porn star, and he would have been embarrassed by it, but it just felt so good, and he almost never let go like this, he never just… rode, just felt pleasure, let it fill him up.

He’d have to wash this dress, although apparently it wasn’t dry clean only, thank god.

He hunched his hips forward, and he jerked himself off through the dress, panting, sobbing, his makeup beginning to sweat off.

But fuck it.

Fuck it all, he was going to… he was going to take it, he was going to enjoy this.

He would try to remember that he wasn’t just a doctor, wasn’t just a thing created to give pleasures to others.

He existed, as himself, and part of being himself was to accept pleasure, to accept happiness.

Henrik came in a burst of semen and bright lights behind his eyes, his cock spurting, twitching, and his ass clutched Jameson like a vice.

And then Jameson was cumming, his cock pulsing like a heart in the condom, and Henrik was slumping forward, panting. 

“Hi,” Henrik said, his voice thick.

Jameson grinned.

_Nice to meet you,_ he signed, and Henrik snickered, and carefully came off of Jameson’s dick, holding on to the condom to keep it in place, then tying it up and tossing it into the garbage.

“You’re such a weirdo,” Henrik said, his tone affectionate.

Jameson, to his eternal credit, didn’t gesture towards Henrik’s clothes, or messy makeup.

He just raised an eyebrow.

Henrik snorted, and reached around to unzip himself.

The dress was nice - it was _excellent_ \- but right now, he needed his skin to be uncovered.

He unrolled his stockings as well, until he was completely naked, and then he was lying flat on the bed next to Jameson. 

“Thank you for that,” Henrik said, his voice quiet.

Jameson didn’t sign anything, just slipped his hand into Henrik’s, and signed something - an “I” and an “L” at the same time.

Henrik blushed, but signed it back, too embarrassed to say it out loud, but feeling it nonetheless. 

* * *

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

Jack was sitting at the kitchen table, and his expression was sour.

“Hmm?’

“You’re in a good mood,” said Jack.

“Oh,” said Henrik. “I, um, I had a good night.”

A week ago, to be blunt, but Henrik was still riding the good mood.

“That sounds nice,” Jack said, and he took another slug of his coffee.

“Is something bugging you, Jack?”

“I’m just stressed,” said Jack. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? We can set up an -”

“I don’t want an appointment,” Jack snapped, and then he looked guilty. “Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Henrik, aware that his voice was a bit stiff, but, well… he didn’t appreciate being yelled at. 

“Still,” said Jack, “I’m sorry.” 

He leaned back in his seat, and he covered his face with both hands. 

“Thank you for your apology,” said Jameson.

“I’m just… on edge,” said Jack. “I feel like everything is just… happening at once, and I’m stuck. I feel helpless, and I hate it.”

“Do you think regressing might help?”

Nobody else was in the kitchen, but Jack still blushed.

“I’ll be fine,” Jack said again.

“Well,” said Henrik, “if you think of anything, please come talk to me.” 

“I will,” said Jack, making a vague hand motion.

* * *

The next day, Jack approached Henrik, looking sheepish.

Henrik was sitting at the kitchen table, writing in a journal. 

It was late in the evening, and everyone had gone to pursue their own pursuits, whatever they might be.

Jack pulled up a seat, and he sat down.

“So,” Jack said, “I was a jerk.”

“I’d say you were more just snappy,” said Hernik, “but if you think you were being a jerk, I won’t contradict you.”

“No?”

Henrik shrugged.

“It’s rude to argue with people about their own feelings. I think you were a tad harsh, but I don’t think you were a jerk.”

“Thanks,” said Jack. “You’re really nice, you know that?”

“I like to think I’ve got a pretty decent bedside manner,” said Henrik.

“Learn to take a compliment,” groused Jack, his expression affectionate.

Henrik snorted.

“That’s what Jameson says,” said Henrik. 

“He’s right,” said Jack.

“I’d argue that I took the compliment,” said Henrik.

Jack snorted.

“It doesn’t count as taking a compliment if you put a qualifier before it,” said Jack.

“I disagree,” said Henrik.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one who regresses back to the bratty teenager?”

“It is my firm belief that we’ve all got a bratty teenager somewhere inside of us,” said Henri. “You’re just better at accessing yours.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been having some trouble accessing it lately,” said Jack, and he looked embarrassed. “Not the teenage… side, but the other ones.”

“You’ve got the younger one, right?”

“Right,” said Henrik. “Usually it helps me to, you know, regress when I’m stressed out. But lately I haven’t been able to get really little.”

“I’m sorry,” said Henrik. “Is there anything I can do to help you with that?”

Jack shrugged.

“What, specifically, about regressing to your younger ages do you enjoy?”

“I like… I like being able to do kiddy stuff,” said Jack, and he was blushing. “You know. Being able to play with blocks, stuff like that.” He was staring at his hands. “I’ve been thinking about going… you know, littler. Maybe stuff with… with bottles, or stuff like that.”

“Do you want me to give you a bottle sometime?”

“... maybe?”

“There’s no shame in it,” Henrik reminded Jack. “I’m not gonna judge you for anything.”

“I know, but _I’m_ judging me,” groaned Jack. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I don’t even fuckin’ know,” said Jack, sighing and slumping back in his seat. “I’m just… super self conscious about this shit. I feel like some kind of gross pervert.”

“I don’t think you’re a gross pervert,” said Henrik. “I think you’re a person with an unusual hobby.”

“You think it’s like a hobby?”

Jack gave Henrik the side eye.

“Yeah,” said Henrik. “I mean, it’s a thing you do for fun, because it relaxes you. Isn’t that true?”

“I mean, it is true,” said Jack. “But it still feels… I dunno, I feel weird referring to it as a hobby.”

“You can buy specialized equipment for it, there are meetups.. I’d say it’s like any other hobby.”

“What kind of specialized equipment?”

“Toys, for one thing.”

“By “toys,” do you mean….”

“I mean toys. Blocks, trucks, things like that. I guess, if you regressed younger, maybe things like nappies or binkies, but you don’t really have much interest in that, do you?”

Jack shrugged.

“I don’t even know, man,” he said. “What do you think?”

“I think that, at the end of the day, it’s up to you,” said Henrik. “What do you want?”

“I don’t think… I don’t think I want nappies or binkies,” said Jack. “I… I kind of like the idea of… of maybe a bottle. Maybe you treating me littler.”

“Littler?”

“Yeah. Maybe… like, two, instead of five.”

“That would be perfectly doable,” said Henrik. 

“I don’t know if I could,” said Jack, “I like the idea of being able to do it, but I don’t know if I… can, you know?”

“What’s the worst that can happen, if you try?”

“I could end up feeling so embarrassed that I just want to die,” said Jack.

“Eh, that’ll pass pretty quickly,” Henrik said, making a vague hand gesture.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” said Jack.

“To be blunt,” said Henrik, “I am aware that I look somewhat ridiculous when I am practicing my own kink. I learned to tune it out, more or less. Some part of my mind is always going to be telling me that I look dumb. I just choose to ignore it.”

“Oh,” said Jack. 

“You make a fool of yourself on your channel all the time, how is this any different?”

Jack shrugged.

“That’s different,” he said. “I mean, it’s… it’s doing it for money, and it’s doing it for someone else’s entertainment. Versus just for myself.”

“It would make me happy,” said Henrik. “If you were to let loose like that, I mean.”

“... I’ll keep it in mind,” said Jack, and he was blushing. 

“You do that,” said Henrik, and then he was going back to his journal.

Jack stood up and patted Henrik on the shoulder. 

* * *

Jack ended up texting Henrik, two weeks later. 

_I might have bought some Little stuff. If you’re free this evening?_

Henrik grinned in spite of himself, leaning back in his office chair. 

_Go for it,_ he texted back. _I’m gonna be done work early anyway._

_You sure?_

_I wouldn’t have said yes if I wasn’t okay with it,_ Henrik texted.

_... good point._

* * *

Henrik had been home for almost an hour when Jack knocked on his door. 

“Hi,” said Jack, and he was standing there, looking sheepish. 

“Hi, Jackie,” said Henrik, and he smiled. 

“Hi,” said Jack, and he rubbed his hands together. “You busy, mom?”

“I’m not busy,” Henrik said, and he stepped back, letting Jack in.

The play mat was spread out, and there were blocks, trucks, and a few stuffed animals scattered around.

It was a cramped space, to be sure, but it was still usable. 

Jack looked like his older teen self, his hands shoved in his pockets, his posture not so good.

“What’s all of this?”

“Well,” said Henrik, “your younger brother is possibly going to be here later, and I figured we could set stuff out for him, so he has something to do.”

“You weren’t gonna wait until he was here?”

“I mean,” said Henrik, “he’s kind of… impatient, at the best of times, so I figured I’d lay stuff out so he wouldn’t have to wait.”

“Oh,” said Jack. “That makes sense.”

“I at least try to do that sometimes,” said Henrik, and he grinned.

“You totally make sense, Mom,” said Jack, and he grinned at Henrik, his expression shy.

Henrik wasn’t even dressed in a particularly female way - at least, in a way that screamed “female” the way the dress had.

He was wearing a woman’s t-shirt, but who would notice that?

It was a light green.

He hadn’t even put on much makeup.

“You wanna play a little, Jackie?”

“Okay,” said Jack, not too enthused.

Henrik patted Jack on the shoulder. 

* * * 

Henrik tried.

He really did!

He tried to be engaging - he tried being nurturing, he let Jack try to relax into it.

But nothing.

At one point, Jack made a frustrated noise and knocked over the tower they’d been building, pouting.

“It’s not working,” Jack groused. “I’m still… not in headspace.”

Henrik was pretty sure that Jack was in his older headspace (versus his usual self), but didn’t say anything.

“Do you think maybe you’d feel better for trying to do something Littler?”

“I’ve been playing with blocks and trucks for an hour and it’s not doing anything,” Jack grumbled.

“Would you like Mommy to give you a bottle? Maybe read you a story?”

“... that’s for babies,” Jack mumbled, but his face was turning red. 

“You’ll always be my baby,” Henrik said, his voice earnest. 

“Mom,” Jack mumbled, and he was blushing. 

“I mean it,” said Henrik. “And if you need to be babied a little bit, to relax, I’d be okay with that.”

“... are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely sure,” said Henrik. 

“... can you read me a story, please?”

Jack’s voice was very quiet.

“Of course, precious,” said Henrik. “Do you want a bottle?”

“... yes,” said Jack. 

“Good boy, telling Mommy what you want,” said Henrik, and he kissed Jack on the forehead. 

Jack sighed, leaning into it. 

* * *

Henrik sat on the bed, half draped, holding an open storybook with one hand, a baby bottle in the other. 

Jack was leaning into him, head on Henrik’s shoulder, his eyes half shut.

He was… relaxed.

Full on bonelessly relaxed, his eyes half shut.

“‘He spent all that day roaming over the house. He nearly drowned himself in the bath-tubs, put his nose into the ink on a writing table, and burned it on the end of the big man’s cigar, for he climbed up in the big man’s lap to see how writing was done,”” read Henrik, balancing the book on Jack’s chest.

It wasn’t exactly great literature, but Henrik had enjoyed it when he was a small child, and it always brought him comfort.

Jack was nursing from the bottle, quietly. 

It was full of water. 

Jack squirmed, so that his head was on Henrik’s chest, and then he sighed, no doubt relaxing even harder. 

It must have been a bit conflicting, with the buzz of Henrik’s voice and the thud of his heart.

Henrik didn’t get to pursue that thought, because there was a knock at the door.

It was Jameson’s special knock - they’d devised it, since Jameson couldn’t exactly call out and say who it was.

“That’s Jameson,” Henrik said, his voice quiet. “Your Daddy. Do you want him to come in?”

Jack paused, then nodded.

“Come in,” Henrik called. 

Jameson came in, carefully closing the door behind him. 

He paused when he saw the toys, and then he smiled.

_Hi, little guy,_ he signed.

“I’m not little,” Jack grumbled. 

_Of course,_ Jameson signed. _Mind if I join you?_

Jack nodded, and he snuggled in closer. 

“Keep reading,” Jack said, and it was still his teenage voice. 

“What do we say, Jackie?”

“Please,” Jack said, his voice quiet.

“Good boy,” said Henrik, and he kissed Jack’s forehead.

Jameson shifted, until he was comfortable, his back against the wall, and Jack’s feet were in his lap.

Jameson’s eyes were sliding closed, and he was relaxing into it as well.

Henrik told the story of Nag and Nagaina, about the cobras and the mongoose, until Jack shifted, biting his lip.

“... Mommy?”

“What is it, precious?”

“I’m… I’m all hard. Can you… can I….”

_How about me?_

Jameson signed, and then his hand reached out, to Jack’s thigh.

“Is that… is that okay?”

“Of course it is, darling,” said Henrik. “Do you want to keep drinking from your bottle?”

Henrik had a pitcher of water by the bed, and he refilled the bottle carefully.

“Yes, please,” Jack said, his voice quiet.

“And do you want your Daddy to touch you?”

“... yes please,” said Jack.

“Good boy, Jackie,” Henrik said, kissing Jack on the temple and slipping the nipple of the bottle between Jack’s lips, “saying what you want.”

_Good boy,_ Jameson echoed, and he slid his thumbs under Jack’s shorts, sliding them down and off, taking Jack’s boxers with them. 

They were both talking quiet, and Jack was relaxing, his eyes sliding shut.

“More story, please?”

“Well,” said Henrik, “since you asked so nicely….”

Henrik turned a page, and began to read again, as Jameson’s mouth went to Jack’s cock, sucking it gently, making quiet, wet sounds.

* * *

“”All these things happened several years ago at a place called Novastoshnah, or North East Point, on the Island of St. Paul, away and away in the Bering Sea. Limmershin, the Winter Wren, told me the tale when he was blown on to the rigging of a steamer going to Japan, and I took him down into my cabin and warmed and fed him for a couple of days till he was fit to fly back to St. Paul's again. Limmershin is a very quaint little bird, but he knows how to tell the truth,”” read Henrik, as Jack squirmed against him, panting, giving little whines now and then around the nipple in his mouth.

Jameson paused, looking up at Henrik with one eyebrow up.

_That story is too gruesome for him,_ Jameson signed.

“It is not,” Jack whined, and then he sighed and shuddered, as Jameson’s fingers slid inside of him, beginning to twist and thrust, presumably pressing right against Jack’s prostate.

“No, I think your dad is right,” said Henrik, and he put the book to the side, holding Jack closer to him, sliding his fingers under Jack’s shirt to play with Jack’s nipples.

Now Jack had to hold his own bottle, which he was still nursing from, carefully, as Jameson sucked his cock and Henrik played with his nipples.

“I’m not a baby,” Jack whined, and... okay, yeah, he was in some kind of headspace, albeit one that Henrik didn’t entirely understand.

Still.

Jack could say something if he was overwhelmed.

“It’s too gruesome for Daddy,” said Henrik, right in Jack’s ear. “You know Daddy is a bit squeamish.”

He twisted Jack’s nipples, each in an opposite direction, as Jack shuddered against him.

“Daddy is kind of a wuss,” Jack said, and his voice cracked.

Jameson looked up at the two of them, and he raised an eyebrow, his cheeks hollowed out from sucking cock.

Jack blushed so hard that it was a bit amazing he didn’t pass out, and then he whined again, harder this time.

“Shhhh,” Henrik said, and he rocked Jack, just a bit. “Be a good boy for Mommy and Daddy. Let us take of you.”

“But I should -”

“You shouldn’t anything,” Henrik said. “Right now, you’re our little boy, and we’re taking care of you. Do you understand that, precious?”

Jack nodded, but he still looked shy.

“Be a good boy,” Henrik said again, and he was aware that he was hard, aware that he was overheating, but none of that mattered.

All that mattered was that he was holding Jack, that Jack was moaning and squirming, that Jack was being a good little boy.

Jack was taking pleasure, Jack was letting himself finally relax, and that was Henrik’s priority.

It seemed to be Jameson’s as well, judging by the way he was working Jack over, thrusting his fingers gently, bobbing his head and sucking noisily.

Jack was gasping, digging his heels into the mattress, grinding his hips forward, his fingers in Jameson’s hair. 

“Please,” Jack whined. “Please Mommy, please, please….”

“What do you want, precious. What would you like?”

“I want it… Mommy, please, I want it so badly, Mommy….”

“What do you want?”

“I want… Mommy, I want you to fuck me, please Mommy.”

“How do you want Mommy to fuck you?”

“I want Mommy’s cock in me, and I want Daddy… I want Daddy’s cock, too. In my mouth.”

“You want Daddy to fuck your face and Mommy to fuck your ass?”

“Yes Mommy, please, please, I need it so badly.”

“How do you feel about that, Daddy?”

Henrik paused - he hadn’t meant to call Jameson “Daddy,” although Jameson didn’t seem to care.

Jameson gave a thumbs up, and Henrik grinned a bit in spite of himself.

“Good boy, communicating what you want,” Henrik said, and he kissed Jack on the temple again.

Jack sighed, and he shuddered.

“I want… I want Mommy and Daddy to just use me,” he said, his voice very quiet. “I want you to just… I just want you to use me to make yourselves cum. I want it so badly, please, Mommy, Daddy, please, please….”

_You did ask nicely,_ signed Jameson, and then he was taking Jack’s face in his hands, and he was kissing Jack. 

He’d taken off the glove he’d been using while he fingered Jack, which made things more… sanitary.

Thank god.

And then Henrik was leaning in, and _he_ was kissing Jameson, right over Jack’s shoulder, as Jack writhed against them, moaning and gasping and sobbing. 

“Please,” Jack whined. “Please, please, don’t… don’t stop. Please don’t stop, you feel so… please, Mommy, Daddy….”

“Such a good boy,” Henrik said, and he was grinding his hips forward. “Such a good boy, for his Mommy and his Daddy.”

Jameson nodded, pulling back, and he licked his lips, stroking his thumb along Jack’s cheekbone. 

“Good boy,” Henrik said again, and he was sliding his own pants down, and the head of his cock was wet against the crack of Jack’s ass.

Jack’s hole was already ready, prepped by the fingering that Jameson had given him.

Henrik ground his hips forward, and Jack whined. 

Jameson was signing something, and then Jack was responding.

“No, I want to suck your cock. Please?”

“This may require a bit of wrangling,” said Henrik, patting Jack on the hip. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Jack said, and his voice was so… sweet that it broke Henrik’s heart a little bit. 

“Good boy.”

* * *

Henrik sank all the way inside of Jack, his pubic hair pressed up against Jack’s ass, as Jack shuddered and ground back against him, his ass flexing and clenching around Henrik’s cock. 

Jack made a muffled noise, probably a groan, and he kept Jameson’s cock in his mouth, bobbing his head. 

Jameson was moaning, and Henrik was moaning as well - they were making intense, dirty noises, discordant and sexy at the same time.

“Such a good boy, for your Mommy and Daddy,” Henrik said, and his hips were working almost frantically.

It had been a quiet day today, and he hadn’t done much of anything sexual - a lot of people having feelings at him or on him, but minimal sexual stuff.

So here he was, balls deep in Jack and enjoying every fucking minute of it.

“You’re such a good boy, Jackie,” Henrik said, his voice rough. “Such a good boy, taking Mommy and Daddy’s cocks, working so hard to make Mommy and Daddy cum….”

Henrik leaned forward, and so did Jameson, and then the two of them were kissing, awkwardly, but still deep, and Jameson was “mumbling” - half spelling things out with his fingers, his eyes still shut, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open.

God, but Jameson was fucking gorgeous.

… that was a bit of a surprise, come to think of it.

To have this… rush of emotions, right here and now, although that would make sense, because sex brought on endorphins and feelings.

Henrik groaned, almost _growled_ , and he dug his fingers into Jack’s hips, squeezing them tightly.

“Such a good boy, Jackie, such a good boy… such… a good… fucking… boy, oh god, oh… fuck, oh god, fuck, Jackie, you’re… fuck!”

Jack went stock still, and there was a moment of panic - was Jack freaking out? 

But no, Jack’s whole body was rigid, and Jack’s cock was twitching, and Jack… Jack was cumming, his cock twitching, clenching around Henrik’s cock.

“God, you’re such good… fucking… boy, such a good boy, my sweet, good boy, Mommy’s sweet, good boy….” 

Henrik shuddered, and his cock twitched inside of Jack’s ass, and then he was full on fucking Jack, and he was… fuck, he was cumming inside of Jack.

Jameson was signing, and then he was going stiff as well, and then Jameson was cumming as well, Jameson was shaking, and Jameson was cumming down Jack’s throat, and Jack was… Jack was looking downright beatific, as he came off of Jameson’s cock, and he was still shaking.

“Oh, such a good boy,” Henrik said, and his voice was quiet, as he rubbed Jack’s belly. “Such a good boy, aren’t you? Such a good boy.”

Henrik leaned down, kissing Jack on the forehead.

Jack, loopy on endorphins (or possibly just loopy in general?) signed to the both of them, an “I” and an “L.”

Jameson sighed, and Henrik made eye contact. 

“Good boy,” said Henrik, and he kissed Jameson. “Such a good boy.”

Henrik kissed along Jack’s hands, and then he reached out for Jameson’s hands, squeezing them.

Jameson sighed, and he signed back.

Henrik blushed, but then he signed it back. 

If you’re not going to be emotionally honest after that kind of sex… when can you be?

Jack was still too addled to really respond, but Jameson… Jameson blushed, and Henrik smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> The bist of story that Henrik was reading Jack are from _Rikki Tikki Tavi_ , and _The White Seal_ , both by Rudyard Kipling.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


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